chapter 5
I shoved my hands into my pockets, watching the crowd through slitted eyes. A northerly wind had blown in, it was brutally cold tonight, but that didn’t seem to stop anyone. The carnival was in full swing, a macabre repeat of last night.
On auto pilot, I watched rider after rider get on the big wheel, repeating the same old lines over and over. Be careful, don’t stick your hand out the sides, don’t swing the basket...blah, blah, blah.
Part of me kept hoping I’d catch a glimpse of Billy. Another part, was hoping he’d stay away. Permanently. Why was I so obsessed with him?
After a sleepless night I’d come to one absolute conclusion. Billy had to die. He couldn’t be allowed to walk around, not while he knew where we were. How to find us. That was too dangerous. Not just for me, but my entire family.
Even so, I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else taking his life. I would have to be the one to do it.
I huffed. How crappy was it that I’d finally found someone who intrigued me beyond sanity, only to realize I couldn’t keep him?
Sometimes my life really sucked.
Billy was bad news gift wrapped in a gorgeous package. Last night he’d held a knife to my throat. That was proof enough that the big bad wolf wasn’t out there buying me roses and chocolate. More likely he was loading down that chiseled frame of his with all sorts of weapons meant to make a girl like me squeal.
I leaned against the fence, crossed my booted feet at the ankles and yes, sulked. Lust and I were in a foul mood. If the outside reflected the inside, then I was wearing a big fat sign that read: beware the dog. Last night I’d been all frills and sex, tonight I was in leather.
I wasn’t on the hunt. Lust had charged the juice last night with Luc and the vamp, and yet, it hadn’t been enough. Not nearly. She’d tagged Billy, whether the man wanted me or not didn’t matter to her. It was almost pathetic the way she wanted him.
I was keeping Lust’s more violent tendencies in check, but just barely.
“Hey, baby.”
I looked up.
A kid, no older than seventeen, staggered up next to me. Alcohol strong on his breath, blue eyes glassy and riddled with bloodshot veins. He gave me a drunken leer, taking his time rolling his gaze up and down my body.
“You’re looking pretty fine tonight.” He hiccupped and chuckled, one of those laughs only the severely drunk find funny. I lifted a brow, my fingers clenched convulsively at my side. “I got a sweet room in the mountains, real private like.” He smiled, touched my necklace and let it slide between his fingers.
Anger foamed in my belly, spewed up my throat. I narrowed my eyes. “What are you thinking, Junior?” My voice was soft, but cold. He was too drunk to notice. If he touched me one more time I claimed no responsibility for my actions.
“Wanna take a ride on the Wayne train?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made me think of a Jim Henson puppet. “Promise you’ll love it.” He leaned in, his nose inches from my neck. Not quite touching, but almost there.
I bared my teeth, revealing the baby fangs I normally kept hidden. They weren’t as sharp or as long as Luc’s, but they could be disconcerting.
The rancid smell of STD was all over him. It spikes the sweat sliding out the pores with a musty, rotted scent. Ridden by Lust, I’d screwed a sick stick before, but it was gross. I couldn’t get diseases, but if you’ve ever seen something like that, then you know what I mean.
“How could I possibly resist when you ask me like that?” I sneered.
He chuckled, so flippin' sure of himself.
“But oh, what a pity, I have laundry to do tonight. Too bad.” I cocked my hip and gave him what I thought was a clear vibe to shove off.
Wayne train had the nerve to grab me by said hips and push me further into the fence. He ground his erection against me, his hand trailing down my arm. “I always get what I want.” His fetid breath smacked me in the face.
Do you ever have those moments when you’re so angry that you grow calm? Like the bands of a hurricane are swirling inside your body but you’re the eye? You’re danger incarnate, but you don’t look it?
I smiled, shimmied my hands up his arms and pressed my breasts tight to his chest. “Ohh, when you put it like that—”
His eyes zipped to the tops of my flattened breasts.
I grabbed his face in a punishing grip. He squirmed, but was still too piss poor drunk to realize how much danger he was in. Almost made me feel sorry for the little maggot. Almost.
I kissed him, mashing my mouth to his in such a way that it forced him to open up or be bruised. He whimpered and I felt a rising thrum of fear override his senses.
I sucked his tongue into my mouth, his hands moved frantically all over my body, but not to draw me closer. He was trying to push me away.
Lust laughed.
Tongues are such a soft, delicate piece of tissue. So many nerve endings. Teased the right way tonguing can be a delicious experience.
I bit him, my fangs slicing deep.
He screamed, but the night was a cacophonous spill of noises. No one heard him. If I wanted to, I could kill him. I squeezed his arm, to the point right before a break. He moaned, and it reeked of the greasy, slimy stench of fear. If I kept it up he’d piss himself.
Pathetic human, Lust snarled.
Lucky for him, I had no intention of killing this night. I shoved him away, hard enough that he nearly tripped over his feet.
I licked my lips, tasting his blood on them and spit. It’s not that I mind blood—most demons enjoy the taste of it on occasion—but when it’s riddled with disease it’s a little like trying to drink expired milk.
His eyes were wide, frantic. As if my kissing him had burned the alcohol right out of his system, he was hyper aware and holding on to his mouth like he feared it might fall off. Blood trickled down the sides of his chin.
Poor thing, he was in a load of proverbial poo now. Blood was a very bad accessory to be wearing in a place like this. Made all the baddies shiver and shake.
Wayne train turned and ran.
“Hey!” I cupped my mouth, “Where you going, baby? Thought you liked it rough.”
He didn’t turn back and I laughed, really laughed. Of course Lust was acting petulant and demanding I go and finish him off. But I was sure Jr. had learned his lesson. No need for added violence. So I ignored her.
My neck prickled, tightened. Like someone’s hot gaze was boring a hole in my head. I turned and studied the blackness beyond my ride. The trees were thick with shadows, and danced with the wind.
I rubbed the back of my neck, patting the fine hairs down. I could see nothing, but I felt it. It wasn’t a feeling of danger, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either.
Frowning, I walked to the game booth nearest me.
The stall was empty. Kemen’s booth wasn’t one of the more active tents. Luc had set him up with the water-balloon game. But that wasn’t what kept the booth almost perpetually empty; it was the fact that there were no prizes to be had for the winner.
Might seem like a crazy thing to do, but the truth was, we weren’t concerned with making money. Each member of this family had to contribute. For most it was a cakewalk. Bubba loved his time at the platform, Luc loved whatever it was that Luc did, us girls...well we just loved being the center of attention.
Kemen was different. His demon was sloth. In layman terms that meant he was lazy as hell and couldn’t be trusted with running an active booth. If he wasn’t sleeping, he was playing video games. On the one hand I envied the ease of that demon, on the other, I couldn’t imagine always being so tired I could barely bring myself to shave, let alone shower each day.
He was a Captain Sparrow type with greasy hair and clothes that looked wrinkled, faded, and unwashed for who knows how long, but still very bangable. Or maybe that was just me.
Kemen sat on a chair resting on its hind legs, hands clasped in his lap, chin on his chest, eyes closed and snoring louder than an electric band saw. I kicked his feet, knocking the chair down, making him jump and grab his chest. I grinned. He narrowed amber eyes, shoveling blunt fingers through his cropped brown hair.
“Pandora,” he growled, “you scared the crap out of me.”
Hair jutted out in odd angles around his head. He yawned, stretching arms high above his head and then groaned.
Gaw, just watching him was making me tired, probably why the humans tended to avoid his booth like the plague. I loved Kemen, but the man was a real downer.
“You awake now, Rip Van Winkle, or do I need to go get a bucket of ice water and dump it on you?”
He smacked his lips. “Funny.”
“Listen, spell me will ya? I gotta take a walk.”
He stood, gave another long lion’s roar of a yawn and shook himself, as if he was trying to wake up, then nodded.
I eyed him. “Or do you think you’re awake enough to handle it? Hate to come back and find the humans dead because you passed out and pressed the wrong button.”
“I swear you nettle me on purpose. You a wise ass like this with everyone else?”
“Just you, baby.” I winked.
“Don’t know why I put up with you.”
“‘Cause you love me.” I batted my lashes at him and gave him my best cheeky smirk.
He snorted, then walked off muttering under his breath.
I laughed. Of all of us, Kemen was the sweetest. Sloth was lazy, not dangerous. He could kill, he was still part demon after all, but he’d take sleep over death any day of the week.
I was getting ready to head back into the woods when I was again overcome by the feeling that I was being watched.
I looked and this time...I saw something.